


20/20

by scrubclub



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, New Year's Kiss, literally just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22046446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrubclub/pseuds/scrubclub
Summary: Every New Year's Eve, Arya and Gendry share a kiss at midnight. It totally doesn't mean anything.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Comments: 39
Kudos: 369





	20/20

**Author's Note:**

> this wasn't supposed to exist, but here we are! ah well, happy new year. may 2020 be a beautiful and calm year for all of us, and may it be a year in which i actually focus on my WIPs instead of randomly writing nonsense fluffy one shots. xx

**2015**

The first time it happened, she was seventeen and he was twenty. She was down in the city to visit her brothers at uni and the two of them had ended up on Theon Greyjoy’s couch, arguing about football - because that’s something Arya Stark does when she meets someone new. He hadn’t registered that the countdown had even occurred because he was too busy explaining to Arya that yes, Oberyn Martell might be overpaid but his contract was a worthwhile gamble for FC Dorne if he helped them win the Continental Cup. The room exploded around them with glitter and singing and confetti as everyone paired off to kiss someone at midnight. 

“Shit,” Gendry said, “It’s midnight already.” Arya was making a face at Robb and his girlfriend, Roslin, whose tongues seemed to be knotted together. She turned to Gendry with an expression of discomfort. 

“Do they know we can see them?” She said, glancing briefly at Theon and his two suitors before shuddering. “Why is this even a thing?” 

“It’s supposed to, like, cleanse people of evil and impurities and bad fortune,” Gendry said, earning a surprised and amused look from Arya, who clearly couldn’t believe he actually had a ready answer to her question. “One of my foster mums was really into ancient rituals, okay? We may or may not have been forced to wear flower crowns and celebrate Midsummer every year.” Arya hooted with laughter before swiftly leaning forward and kissing his cheek. She drew away instantly, a light blush appearing on her cheek. 

“There,” she said, “Now you’re cleansed and your year will be full of good fortune.” Gendry touched his spot where she had kissed him and laughed. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

“Don’t kiss me back,” Arya warned, pointing a finger at him threateningly. “I like my evil, I don’t want you purifying me. Anyway, I agree about Martell, I just think that if he had signed for less, they could have afforded him _and_ pried Jaime Lannister away from the Lions.” Gendry scoffed at the mere suggestion of Jaime Lannister playing anywhere other than his hometown. 

**2016**

The next year, Arya was living in King’s Landing, her first year half finished. Gendry saw her around occasionally, when she would crash one her brother’s parties or stop him in the courtyard to ask him if he had seen a particularly dramatic football match. 

“Thought you lot were staying up in Winterfell for New Year’s,” he said, tapping his beer bottle against hers. Arya shrugged. She was wearing more makeup this year - her eyeliner was dark and striking and she seemed to be wearing something shimmery on her cheeks. She looked good, though far more intimidating than the previous year. 

“Change of plan,” she said, “Mum and Dad got invited to some stupid gala in Wintertown, so the boys and I decided we’d rather come back here instead of suffering through Sansa and her school friends getting shitfaced off of wine coolers.” Gendry snorted and took a swig of beer. “Did it work?” Arya asked suddenly. 

“Hm?”

“The kiss? Did you have a year of good fortune?” He wasn’t sure how she managed to look both confident and uncertain, but she did so quite effectively. Her eyebrows were sort of enchanting, one of them arched delicately as she awaited his response. Her lips were pressed together, but she was smiling slightly. He hadn’t noticed how icy her eyes had been until tonight - they were like the ocean on a cloudy day. Whoa. It was not cool to think that your friends’ little sister was cute, so he pushed that thought out of his mind as he answered. 

“Uh, yeah I guess so,” Gendry said, frowning as he thought about it. It _had_ been a good year, really. He had breezed through all of his courses and had got the summer internship he wanted and a fancy local coffee shop had insisted on overpaying for four of his pieces, which left him with enough money to pay off his student loans. “Yeah, it was really good.” 

“Good,” Arya smiled. Someone announced from the kitchen yelled that they were all behind, and that the countdown had already started. 

“Four!” The panicked partygoer shouted, and the rest of the crowd joined in. There was a loud cheer as everyone paired off as usual, and Gendry felt Arya’s hand on his jaw as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He turned to thank her as she pulled away and for a brief moment they were face to face, her lips parting slightly as their eyes met. She lowered herself down and tilted her chin upwards and off to the side, tapping her sparkly cheekbone. 

“I could use a lucky year,” she said. He kissed it as delicately as he could.

**2017**

Gendry wasn’t sure how he and Arya Stark had become best friends, but they had. Maybe it was Jon and Ygritte becoming serious, or Robb spending his semester doing a work-study in the Riverlands. Maybe it was due to Arya filling in for Robb on their intramural football team and helping them secure the championship prize (a night of free drinks at the campus pub). Maybe it started the day Jaime Lannister agreed to a contract with Riverrun United and she vowed to never let Gendry hear the end of it. She was easy to be around, easy to talk to, easy to laugh with and (on one alcohol-heavy occasion that neither of them talked about) cry with. 

Arya had convinced Gendry to ask Jeyne Heddle out last month when he had told her about the girl in his mandatory English class who kept asking him for help studying (“You idiot, she doesn’t want your notes on Martin, she wants to fuck you!”) and he had agreed to call her halfway through her first date with Mycah, just in case she needed an escape (she didn’t - Mycah was pretty much the nicest guy in the world). 

Tonight, their would-be dates were both back in their respective hometowns for the holidays, leaving Arya and Gendry to mill about Theon’s living room, placing bets on how whether or not the host would drink himself unconscious before midnight. They found a spot on his couch - the same couch they had first met on - and watched Theon sway deliriously around, forcing his friends and guests to dance with him.

As the countdown began, Arya glanced up at Gendry, tucking her hair behind her ear and giving him a funny smile. Under other circumstances, he would be kissing Jeyne at midnight and Arya would be off with Mycah. He swallowed as the crowd around them began to cheer. 

Both Arya and Gendry had intended to do the same thing - kiss the other on the cheek - but neither of them had known that the other would move. The result was an awkward meeting of lips - more of a graze or a bump than a _kiss_ \- before a slew of apologies from each of their mouths. Arya cracked up first, shaking her head at their lack of coordination. 

“Happy New Year, Gendry,” she smiled, patting him on the shoulder. 

“Happy New Year, Arya.” 

Jeyne broke up with him a few weeks later, explaining that her friend had seen him kissing Arya at New Years. He told her what had actually happened and she sighed, touching his face gently before telling him that she still thought that they probably should see other people. Arya and Mycah had lasted only a few weeks longer. 

**2018**

Gendry hadn’t rung in a new year without Arya Stark in ages. It felt weird without her. He was at Robb’s apartment, which was far nicer than his own, and the party felt far too adult for his liking. Everyone was dressed nicely and Theon had only had three glasses of wine thus far. He only knew a few attendees - most of them were Robb’s coworkers or his girlfriend’s friends. 

He had graduated and started apprenticing at a local metalwork shop. Arya had spent the last semester in Braavos, sending him selfies of rainy days and photos of cool historical artifacts. She was back in Westeros now, but he wouldn’t see her ‘til school started up again, bringing her back to the city. Gendry had missed her far more than he had expected to, and the thought of finally seeing her again made him feel rather warm inside. This was stupid, really, because they were only friends. 

A redhead in a tight dress had been following him around since a quarter past eleven, asking him about himself and telling him how warm she felt in her velvet dress. Gendry wasn’t sure what to do to make her go away - he was usually quite good at telling people to fuck off without actually saying the words out loud, but this woman didn’t seem to get the message. 

He couldn’t shake her. He tried to sneak into the bathroom, but it was locked. He tried to sidle into a conversation between two strangers, but they looked at him funny before moving on. He stepped out onto the balcony and failed to stifle a groan as the redhead followed him out. “It’s almost midnight,” she said, and he stepped backwards. 

“Yep,” Gendry said. 

“They say that whoever you kiss at midnight is the person you’ll spend the year with,” she continued, batting her eyelashes. 

“Er, right,” he said, “I don’t think you’re - _Arya?_ ” He had no idea when she arrived, but she was there, her hair longer than it had been in the summer and her eyes sparkling with laughter as she hugged Jon. She was wearing a little gold dress that reminded him just how distracting he found her legs. He looked back up to her face and met her eyes. She looked a little confused (which is fair, considering she had just caught her best friend ogling her legs) but smiled when he smiled. The party began to count down from ten and Gendry shot Arya his best “help me!” face. 

“Who’s Arya?” The redhead asked. “Your girlfriend?” 

“Um,” he said, as Arya stepped out onto the balcony and threw her arms around Gendry. It felt right, Arya tucking her head into his chest and squeezing his midsection. “...Yes. This is Arya, my _girlfriend_.” Arya didn’t miss a beat as she pulled away from his chest, and slid her arms around his neck. 

“That’s us,” Arya beamed, and there was a ripple of cheers from the party and the city below them as the clock struck midnight. Before he could register what was happening, Arya was kissing him - actually kissing him. Her lips were against his, warm and eager and perfect, and then, far too soon, they were gone. 

“You’re welcome for that,” she smiled. Her cheeks were pink and the redhead had disappeared. “Girlfriend of the year, I think.” She winked as she turned to rejoin the party. “C’mon, let’s get a beer. I want to tell you all about Braavos.” Gendry felt stunned, utterly frozen by the impact of Arya Stark’s lips, but he blinked and shook his head and followed her inside. 

**2019**

“What kind of asshole doesn’t tell you he has a girlfriend?” Arya spat, downing another glass of champagne and reaching for a new one. “Four dates - four amazing dates! The best sex I’ve had in ages! And I end up being the other woman.” She took a hefty swig of champagne and shook her head. 

“He’s a dick,” Gendry offered, choosing not to think about Aegon and Arya’s sexlife, however brief it may have been. He hadn’t liked the sound of Aegon when Arya had told him about the gorgeous blond who had picked her up at a bar, and his instincts had proven right when Arya and her friends had found him on Instagram this morning, having posted a photo with his girlfriend of three years. 

“He is,” Arya agreed. “I’m gonna message that girl tomorrow and tell her she’s dating a rat. But tonight, we’re getting drunk.” She raised her glass to tap his beer bottle before downing the remaining champagne in one go. 

Jon and Ygritte’s apartment was crowded with people, and Arya didn’t seem to mind being squished against Gendry. He didn’t mind either, though as he finished another beer, the closeness seemed to grow more electric, and her body leaning against his made his head feel sort of light. 

Arya was an adorable drunk, and rather affectionate. She told every girl she encountered about Aegon, and they all commiserated over how very stupid boys could be. She told Jon he was her favourite brother and then told Robb that _he_ was her favourite brother, and then called Bran to tell him that he was the best brother in the entire world. She texted Rickon to tell him that he was a wonderful person, to which he replied “k. mix in a water.” She even texted Sansa a selfie from the bathroom when her sister had asked her to share her New Year’s Eve look. Gendry had been dragged in with her, smiling dopily in the background as Arya stuck her tongue out and flashed a peace sign. 

“S’midnight.” Arya said. 

“Not yet,” Gendry laughed. He had never seen her so drunk. They were in Jon’s kitchen, where there was a little bit more breathing room. Arya was sitting on the counter, sipping from a beer that Gendry had been holding a few minutes earlier. He wasn’t sure when he had given it to her, but he stole it back briefly to take a swig. 

“They’re counting,” Arya said. “Can you kiss me again?” Gendry swallowed and nodded. He was probably dreaming - whatever had been in Theon’s punch surely had knocked him out. 

“For good luck, right?” He asked, because sometimes you ask stupid questions when you’re drunk enough to think you’re dreaming. 

“Sure,” Arya said, and then they were kissing. She tasted like the beer he had just set down and like the honey lip balm she always carried in her purse. Her arms went around his neck and her hand went to his hair as he clutched her elbows. It was a little bit sloppy and rather desperate, but it was also perfect and irresistible and everything he had dreamed it might be.

Neither of them remembered it the next morning, at least not properly. 

“Did we kiss last night?” she asked him groggily over the phone. Gendry tried to fight through the fog of his hangover. He remembered kissing her in Jon’s kitchen, but the memory blurred with his visions of what else he had wanted to do with her, and they _definitely_ hadn’t done that. 

“Er, yeah,” he said, forcing a laugh. “We always do, though, right? It’s tradition.” Arya laughed too, sounding as tired and hungover as he felt. 

“If you bring me coffee, I’ll make you pancakes,” Arya said. 

**2020**

Arya had been invited to a work party but had not been offered a plus-one. Gendry was going to be at the gallery show anyway, mingling with potential clients and hoping to ring in the new year with a few fresh paycheques. It was fine, really - they didn’t _need_ to spend New Year’s Eve together. It was silly. They had been friends for years and that wouldn’t change just because they weren’t going to ring in the new year at each other’s side. 

“I’ll send you a little kissy emoji,” Arya had joked, and Gendry had rolled his eyes. A part of him felt a stab of pain, though, at the thought of Arya at her fancy work party, surrounded by fellow historians, alone at midnight - or, even worse, finding someone new to kiss as the clock struck twelve. 

“Smile, Gendry,” Davos reminded him, “Smiles sell.” Gendry did his best to follow Davos’ advice as middle aged man inspected one of his pieces, looking impressed as he called his wife over. Gendry checked his watch - it was a quarter to twelve. He felt a knot in his gut and told himself to get a grip. He didn’t even know where Arya’s work party was being held - the museum, perhaps, or at some fancy restaurant. And it’s not as if he could go in and find her anyway - she wasn’t allowed to bring guests. Even if she could bring a guest, she may not have brought him - she might have found an actual date. “Twelve thousand.” 

“Huh? Oh,” Gendry blinked as he met Davos’ stern gaze. “Yeah this one’s… _twelve thousand?_ ” The sculpture was worth far less than that. Davos flashed him a warning look and Gendry grinned at the couple. “Yes, this is worth a whole twelve thousand crowns.” 

“We’ll take it!” The man said. “Oh, honey, this is going to look so lovely in the villa’s foyer.”

“And we’re supporting a local artist!” His wife cooed, smiling adoringly up at her husband. 

It was almost midnight by the time the couple had handed Davos the cheque and Davos had begun calculating his cut of the profits. “I’ll send this to you tomorrow, Waters. You go do whatever it is you’ve been thinking about doing all night.” Gendry glanced at his phone - 11:57pm. The museum was only a few blocks away - though he wasn’t even sure that she would be there. Even if she was, it was likely too late to catch Arya before midnight. Whatever.

He wasn’t sure when it had started snowing, but the sidewalk was dusted with a thin layer of white as he rushed out of the gallery in the direction of the museum. It was cold, but he was in too much of a rush to notice. The streets were silent - everyone was inside, ready to ring in the new year with their friends and family. 

As Gendry rounded the first corner, he knocked right into another pedestrian, who he reached out to catch and hold upright, keeping them both from slipping on the snowy pavement. 

“Hi,” Arya breathed, looking up with wide eyes that appeared more relieved than surprised to see him. Her hair was in a pretty bun, with a few strands falling out to frame her face. Her lips were a deep red tonight. 

“Hi,” he echoed, still holding her tightly. “I was just -,” 

“Coming to find you,” she finished for him. “It didn’t feel right without you there.” He nodded, his eyes very briefly leaving hers to fall to her lips. 

“Arya,” he said, “Before I do this, I want to make it clear that I’m not trying to wish you good fortune or cleanse you or rid you of any evils inside you.” She nodded as he adjusted his arms so that he was holding her waist with one hand and her cheek with the other. “I just really want to kiss -,” 

Her lips were soft and eager and she tugged him closer as she stood on her toes to reach him better. Fireworks and cheers erupted from the city around them and the midnight bells begin to chime from a nearby church. Gendry didn’t notice, though, because Arya had brought her fingers to his hair and he was now certain that they had done this before, a year earlier under the influence of far too much alcohol. He would remember this one.

“We should do this more often,” Arya said as she pulled away. “At least for every major holiday.” He smiled as their lips met again and he kissed her with such enthusiasm that - if midnight kisses could _actually_ promise good fortune, they would both be impossibly lucky for the rest of their lives.


End file.
